Chapter 11: Taiyi True Qi

Song Yanqing’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘I think so’? Either there are more or there aren’t.”

Niu Youdao pointed at the sheet in his hand. The meaning was obvious: wasn’t there already one right in front of him? Of course there were more.

Song Yanqing immediately became all warmth and enthusiasm. “Junior Brother, quickly write down the other poems and lyrics your teacher composed. We have time now, so we can appreciate them properly.”

Niu Youdao shook his head. “Before Master died, he told me to cultivate diligently after I reached the Shangqing Sect, not to spend my time writing things like this.”

Song Yanqing stared at him. Then, with the exasperation of someone watching fine iron refuse to become steel, he said, “Cultivation won’t be delayed by a day or two. Writing a few poems won’t take much time.”

Niu Youdao put on an innocent expression. “But I can’t remember them all at once.”

Song Yanqing was left speechless again. In the end he could only say helplessly, “You don’t have anything else to do anyway. Think carefully. The moment you remember one, write it down and show it to me.” As he spoke, he carefully rolled up the sheet in his hand.

Niu Youdao seemed puzzled. “Senior Brother Song, my teacher used to say that scholars are useless at everything. What use is writing this stuff?”

Song Yanqing raised an eyelid, slung an arm around Niu Youdao’s shoulders, and said, “Junior Brother, I have my uses for it. Once you remember something, just write it down. I won’t treat you badly. And don’t mention this to anyone else. Understand?” His expression made it equally clear that there would be consequences if Niu Youdao did not understand.

Niu Youdao, for his part, looked utterly uninterested in the subject. Instead of answering, he said, “Senior Brother, I want to cultivate the Shangqing Sect’s techniques. I hope I can learn to fly around like all of you as soon as possible.”

Song Yanqing’s face darkened slightly. “Do what I asked first. We can talk about that afterward.”

Niu Youdao seemed to be throwing a youthful tantrum. “Senior Brother, being shut up here all day leaves me restless and irritated. Who knows? One day I might accidentally let something slip.”

Song Yanqing narrowed his eyes and gave a cold laugh. “Are you threatening me?”

Niu Youdao answered calmly, “I only think that if I can fulfill Master’s final wish sooner, I’ll be able to put my mind at ease sooner. Then perhaps I can remember more of the poems and lyrics my teacher wrote, and do a better job of what Senior Brother asked.”

Song Yanqing gave a low chuckle and studied him from head to toe for a long while without speaking. This cheap little junior brother of his was rather interesting. He possessed a maturity far beyond his age. The brat was actually negotiating terms with him. Then again, if what Niu Youdao wrote could truly help him please Senior Sister Tang, agreeing was not impossible. So what if the boy cultivated? It was not as though Song Yanqing feared he could overturn the heavens. The real problem was that whether Niu Youdao was allowed to cultivate was not something Song Yanqing could decide by himself.

After considering it briefly, Song Yanqing slapped a hand onto Niu Youdao’s shoulder and gripped it. “Fine. It’s settled. I’ll put in a word for you about cultivation. It shouldn’t be a major problem. But if the things you write don’t satisfy me, I guarantee there’ll be nowhere for you to go and regret it.”

It was not an empty threat. There were matters Song Yanqing could not decide personally, but the Song clan wielded enormous influence over the Shangqing Sect. If he truly chose to intervene, arranging for Niu Youdao to receive cultivation instruction was not particularly difficult.

With that, he gave Niu Youdao an offhand shove.

Bang!

Niu Youdao went sprawling face-first onto the floor. By the time he pushed himself back up, Song Yanqing was already striding away. Grimacing in pain, Niu Youdao pulled open his collar and examined the shoulder Song had squeezed. Five blue-red finger marks had already appeared. The other man had deliberately taught him a lesson and had very nearly crushed the bone. The whole area was swollen and throbbing.

All along, Niu Youdao had tried not to offend Song Yanqing and bring unnecessary trouble on himself, especially after learning the man’s background. But why had he endured so much hardship to reach the Shangqing Sect? Now that he had finally caught the slightest opening, he naturally refused to let it pass. He had shown a little of his edge and taken the risk...

In its early years, the Shangqing Sect had possessed more than ten thousand disciples. Now only a few hundred remained, which meant there was no shortage of residential courtyards. The moment Song Yanqing returned to his own residence, he hurried into the study and laid out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. He was just about to copy the lyric into his own handwriting when he froze. He had forgotten to ask what it was called.

So he invented a title himself and wrote it down. Toward evening, Song Yanqing entered a secluded valley. As soon as he emerged from the other side, he raised his eyes and searched ahead. His gaze settled, and a smile appeared on his face. At the foot of the mountain stood two newly raised graves. Before them, a graceful figure stood quietly with her back to him.

It was none other than Tang Yi. Buried beneath the two mounds were the senior and junior martial brothers Tang Mu and Dong Guo Haoran. To this day, the Shangqing Sect still did not know exactly what had happened to the two men. But Tang Mu’s final words had made it clear that the affair was anything but ordinary. In accordance with his last wishes, the sect had kept his death secret and refrained from publicly mourning him. Not even the two grave markers bore names.

Song Yanqing had guessed Tang Yi would be here, and sure enough she was. He straightened his clothes, walked over quickly, and called, “Senior Sister.” Then he respectfully paid his respects before each of the two new graves.

When he was finished, Tang Yi frowned slightly. “Junior Brother Song, what brings you here?”

“Senior Sister didn’t think much of the poem I wrote last time.” Song Yanqing turned toward her and offered a rolled sheet of calligraphy with both hands, smiling broadly. “So I racked my brains and wrote another lyric. I’d like Senior Sister to appreciate it and offer some guidance.”

Tang Yi was genuinely growing impatient with his pestering. How could she not understand what Song Yanqing wanted? She had also heard stories of his dissolute behavior among the pleasure quarters of the capital. But the Shangqing Sect now depended on the Song clan, and Tang Susu had repeatedly warned her not to tear away all courtesy and make things difficult for everyone. She was told to understand the broader situation and humor him as necessary.

Whatever resentment some people within the Shangqing Sect might once have felt toward Dong Guo Haoran for involving himself with Prince Ning, Shang Jianbo, and potentially dragging the sect into danger, the reality was that with Prince Ning dead, the Shangqing Sect had lost its last source of deterrence. The sect now stood amid wind and rain with no shelter to speak of. It truly could not afford to offend the Song clan.

So Tang Yi had no choice but to suppress her impatience and accept Song Yanqing’s calligraphy. At first she opened it without much interest. But after reading the contents, her cherry lips moved faintly, and she could not help murmuring the lines aloud.

“When golden wind and jade dew meet but once,
That meeting surpasses countless ones in the mortal world...
If love between two hearts is meant to last,
Why need they be together morning and night...”

She repeated the lines several times. Gradually, her expression became almost entranced. Song Yanqing watched every change in her face. Seeing her reaction, he was delighted. Sure enough, the words had moved her.

Normally, he would never dare stare openly at her from such close range. But while Tang Yi was distracted, he took the opportunity to feast his eyes. Her beautiful face combined cool elegance with softness; her neck was pale and graceful as a swan’s; her figure was slender, supple, and alluring. Most striking of all was that refined, otherworldly air about her, like a pure lotus standing alone amid the muddy dust of the mortal world.

This kind of beauty was not something those gaudily dressed so-called beauties could compare with. It was precisely because of her that he was willing to remain in these wild mountains. Otherwise, he would long since have returned to the prosperous capital. Why would he have the patience to endure such lonely seclusion here? If he truly wanted to leave, the Shangqing Sect could not stop him.

When Tang Yi finally came back to herself, her bright eyes moved over the handwriting on the page. “You wrote this lyric?”

Song Yanqing felt a flicker of guilt. But after another thought, he decided Niu Youdao had no ability to make trouble for him. Even if word somehow spread and that so-called impoverished scholar learned of it, Song Yanqing had ways to make sure the man could never raise his voice.

He smiled. “A clumsy effort. I hope Senior Sister won’t laugh.”

Tang Yi gave him a rather strange look. She knew perfectly well what sort of person he was. The idea that he could write a lyric like this was difficult to believe. But out of consideration for his dignity, she did not expose him. She merely nodded and praised it as a fine lyric.

The two talked as they left the valley. Once outside, they went their separate ways. The important point was that Tang Yi refused Song Yanqing’s offer to escort her. As soon as Tang Yi returned, she had people discreetly inquire whether Song Yanqing had recently received any letters or similar correspondence. The answer was no. The only notable thing anyone knew was that Song Yanqing had gone to Peach Blossom Spring that day.

Tang Yi considered the lyric again, increasingly puzzled. Could that wastrel truly have written it himself? Clouds drifted across the moon. Inside Peach Blossom Spring, Niu Youdao sat cross-legged on his bed. His brows trembled continuously. His mind was far from calm, and his body even less so. Within him, the situation resembled a raging sea.

His inner breath had become so chaotic that even he found it difficult to control. Something indistinct within his organs, limbs, and bones seemed to have accumulated to a critical point. Flesh and blood could no longer contain it. It churned violently inside him, rising and falling like towering banks of cloud.

Boom!

At last, he seemed to hear an explosive peal of thunder within his own body, shaking both flesh and spirit. Amid the endlessly colliding, rolling sea of clouds, something like a bolt of lightning was born. More precisely, a strand of true qi. The transformation was almost like a chemical reaction. Though Niu Youdao’s eyes remained closed, excitement appeared faintly on his face.

He truly had not expected this. He was cultivating Taiyi exactly as he had in his previous life. Back then, it had taken him three full years to cultivate his first strand of true qi. In this world, he had succeeded in less than two months. The abundance of spiritual qi here was clearly far beyond anything he had imagined.

That first strand of true qi was as fine and weak as thread, yet the moment it appeared, it moved like a true dragon swallowing clouds and breathing mist, twisting nimbly through the vaporous currents within him. The surrounding clouds rushed toward it from every direction. Before long, the surging sea of cloud inside his body had been swept clean, every trace absorbed by that single wisp of true qi.

Despite devouring so much, the tiny thing did not seem to grow at all. If anything, it merely became more vigorous. It radiated a powerful vitality and seemed linked directly to his flesh and blood. If he allowed it to spread freely, its aura could even seep from the pores of his skin. That sensation of qi penetrating his flesh clearly strengthened both the vitality and power of the body.

Before true qi was formed, cultivation amounted to breathing and refining qi. One could not actually feel a current moving through the meridians. Once true qi appeared, there was finally something substantial inside the body that could truly be sensed, though its substance was gaseous. That was precisely the origin of the term “true qi.”

Only when something could actually be felt could it be guided and controlled. Without such a concrete sensation, there was nothing to grasp and no way to direct it. Once the turmoil and transformation within him had completely subsided, Niu Youdao’s expression returned to calm. He began guiding the true qi through his meridians. This process was second nature to him.

Many meridians in an ordinary person’s body would never be put to much use over the course of a lifetime. They were open at birth, but as a person grew and their habits of living changed, impurities and other obstructions accumulated, leaving many pathways blocked or half blocked.

Niu Youdao intended to circulate qi through them and open every obstructed passage. This would make it easier for him to direct qi through his body in the future. At the same time, it would allow him to inspect the structure of his meridians and determine whether this body was truly suited to cultivation.

The process was somewhat painful. Places that had gone years without being touched by any external force were suddenly being invaded and scoured. Under the pressure and cleansing of the true qi, substances resembling bloody impurities gradually seeped from his pores. Before long, a faint smell of blood and foulness hung in the room.

[End of Chapter 11]